Kindness Repaid
by The-other-8th-wonder
Summary: An incident causes Arnold to take stock of his relationship and see someone who was always there in a new light.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own Nothing

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They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. She didn't know about that but she knew there was nothing greater than looking into the eyes of her beloved, his large hands encased in hers, when she felt herself fading away. His eyes were watery and filled with concern. His eyes were sparkling and full of life. In them she could find her way home.

Her mouth tasted of metal and the hard tiled floor was sticky. He watched as she tried to move, her rigid body pained. He was afraid. For the first time in his life he couldn't find a bright side. The girl he had known his whole life was shot. The girl who hated him jumped in front of a gun for him. Helga Pataki was lying on the hallway floor in their high school bleeding out, while he applied pressure to the wound.

"Hey," she whispered barely audible.

He looked into her eyes and smiled convincingly. He was scared but she didn't have to know it. The least he could do was make her comfortable.

What was taking the ambulance so long? He saw her eyes closing and tried to keep her distracted.

"Helga, remember when we were kids and you were always saving me? You always seemed to be there when I needed you. How did you do that?"

She smirked a little despite struggling to breathe.

"Bad timing, I guess. But look on the bright side. I won't be around to annoy you anymore." She wheezed a little and squirmed, fighting something neither wanted to discuss.

His face turned bleak, his features solemn. "Don't talk like that. I _always_ want you around." He squeezed her hand in comfort and fear.

She snorted and then winced. Arnold held her hand tighter and brought himself closer after feeling how cold she was. "Right. You must be some kind of masochist to want your childhood bully around."

How did she do that? How did she act like she didn't save his life? Like what she did was no big deal. Why was she always saving him? He didn't understand what he did to deserve that level of devotion.

She whispered, her own eyes filling with tears. "It's because you saved me first."

He hadn't noticed he mumbled the last part of his musings aloud. He could see the toll talking was taking on her strength.

"Helga, please don't speak. We can talk about this later, okay?"

Her body began shaking but he needed to know this. She may not have tomorrow. "A-Arnold, you saved my life a long time ago. And have been saving it everyday. If I never get to tell you-"

"Shh, Helga it's alright. You need to preserve your strength."

She shook her head, suddenly feeling numb. "No I need to say this. I lied before, when we were kids. I love you. I have always loved you. This wasn't your fault." And with that the 17-year-old lost her battle with consciousness and slipped away.

"Helga?" His eyes widened as her hand went lax in his. "Oh please no. Please don't do this. Helga!" His own tears couldn't be controlled now. He rocked gently beside her, holding her stroking her cheek and refusing to let go of her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

He wouldn't let her go. He couldn't let her out of his sight. Even as the EMT worker pushed him aside to tend to her, he resisted a little.

She was so much more than he ever imagined and the knowledge that she kept so much of herself hidden haunted him. He paced in the waiting room focusing on remembering to breathe. It was all he could do. After watching her code twice in the ambulance, remembering to breathe seemed a chore unto itself.

He felt his chest tighten, his breaths harsh. He was going to break down soon, he knew he would. He could _feel_ it. He wasn't strong enough to handle this on his own. After calling her parents nonstop, he gave up and walked along the waiting room floor until her doctor arrived, fiddling with his cell.

Deciding to take a seat he sat in the unoccupied chair closest to the reception area. His head was between his legs and his hands were cradling his neck. He felt powerless so he diverted his attention to the tiled floor. He counted and recounted the pattern hundreds of times. He scoffed, feeling like Arnie. He hadn't known how his thoughts drifted to his weird country cousin, but somehow they led him right back to Helga. Arnie was able to see how beautiful she was. Arnold had always been blinded. He took things at face value, which meant he missed a lot. It took him a while to realize she wasn't as mean as she acted, that Lila wasn't as perfect as seemed, that Summer had an agenda (which he only saw with her help), and Ruth was vapid. It took him even longer to realize that having parents doesn't always equal happiness. Helga taught him that.

FLASHBACK

_13 year old Arnold was heading to the hardware store, ready to help Grandpa with some repairs around the boarding house. He was being groomed to take over the place once he graduated high school and after getting lesson upon lesson in business management (which to Arnold was funny since he barely saw his grandfather collect rent. He wondered how they were able to stay afloat with all the favors he granted) grandpa finally decided to let him fix a broken pipe for Mr. Huynh. _

_Taking a shortcut through the park he stopped when he heard sniffling by a bench. Walking closer he could make out a figure, which he assumed was a girl's, sitting with her hands covering her face. He hated to see someone cry. It was even worse when it was a girl. For some strange reason he felt compelled to comfort the stranger. Standing in front of her, he realized she was no stranger at all._

"_Helga?"_

_There she sat in front of him looking miserable in a black tea-length dress, her blonde ringlets pulled away from her face making her tears seem bigger. Despite the tears, she was beautiful. _

"_H-hey Arnold." She tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. She'd obviously been caught. Feeling embarrassed she sat with her hands in her lap and stared at them, refusing to make eye contact. _

_Noticing her reticence he sat next to her and placed a comforting hand atop hers. "Helga, what happened?"_

_They sat in silence for a while, her trying to decide if she'd let him in and him willing her to. _

_Then she spoke. "I don't know why I thought it would be different. I tried. I tried to be like her." She sniffled and he had no idea what she was talking about, but didn't let go of her joined hands while he listened. _

_Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I just wanted them to notice me, so I took up the piano. For a while it worked." She looked up at him then smiling. "For a while I had their attention. Bob even told me he was proud of me. That I was doing the Pataki name proud. I hated it Arnold. I wanted to quit but I couldn't let it go. I practiced twice a day for the recital, and they were going to be there. I had a 5 minute performance and they were actually going to cheer me on."_

_Arnold jumped in, oblivious as always. "That's great Helga! But why are you crying? Did you make a mistake? I'm sure it wasn't as bad as you think."_

"_No," she said softly, remembering the standing ovations and requests for an encore. "I was good. The only issue is they never came to see it. Got a text halfway through the show that Olga was making a surprise trip home and needed to be picked up from the airport."_

_He didn't know why but he felt a pang in his chest after she told him. Drawing her closer he curled his arm around her waist and she leaned in, bringing her head to his chest. She laid there, covered in his warmth and felt the peace she had always been seeking. Too bad it was short-lived. _

_She cringed when her father's gruff voice cut through the moment. "Hey little lady, hop in. Olga's back and she's been asking for you." Pulling away from him at the sight of her father's car idling in the park entrance she tossed Arnold an apologetic look and stood up, ready to leave._

"_Hey Helga?"_

"_Yeah?" She turned around and gave him her full attention._

_He smirked, his signature half lidded gaze in full effect. "I wish I would have seen it. I bet you were amazing."_

_She smiled then, a rarity that almost stopped Arnold's heart. "Thanks Arnold." Waving her goodbyes, she rolled her eyes at her father honking the horn again and rushed to get in his car. _

END FLASHBACK

He brushed back the memories and asked the nurse at the reception area about her for what seemed like the billionth time. They wouldn't let him see her. She was still being operated on. What's worse is he had been calling her parents nonstop since he came in and no one had shown up. He never realized how alone she was. She didn't have anyone to lean on in a crisis. It made him sad. It made him angry. What kind of parents neglect their child? He knew enough about the Patakis to notice Helga was the spare. Always unnoticed, but never unloved. Poor Helga just drew the short stick—born to a family with a penchant for keeping up appearances. Forced to the background by her attention seeking older sister. He believed they loved her, they just had a weird way of showing it.

But she wasn't truly alone, she had Pheobe. Well _had_ was the operative word. Since hitting high school most of the old gang drifted. That was natural—it was a bigger school with more kids and more opportunities to be around kids that shared like-minded interests. Phoebe began hanging out with the braniacs, the future leaders. Her time with Helga began to diminish and soon became non-existent. Their relationship was reduced to a passing greeting in a crowded hallway. He saw the toll on Helga—the girl's already dim light darkened, and she opted to stay to herself most of the time. Arnold considered himself lucky that he and Gerald didn't have the same fate.

She also had him, and he wasn't planning on leaving her anytime soon. He could always sense when she needed him, and looking back she always sensed when he needed her too. Just like she sensed he was in trouble and went to find him in the hallway, gun pointed to his head. She was always there with gestures he never noticed and advice he never wanted, but never realized how much he needed. She had to be okay. His mind couldn't conceive a Helga-less existence. Without noticing, he was slowly beginning to realize she influenced every aspect of who he was.

She was a two-sided coin; her duality always puzzled him. Most of the time she was mean and brash. During those times he couldn't stomach being around her. But then there were other times, quiet times when she was so broken, so vulnerable that it took every ounce of willpower not to wrap her in his arms and never let go. Right now he would give anything to look into her eyes and know she would be okay.


	3. Chapter 3

Hours passed, calls went ignored and Arnold went numb as he tried to block out the worst-case scenarios that kept flooding his mind. The hospital was so quiet, so sterile. He could hear phones ringing, nurses joking and machines beeping. He hated it. He hated that she had to be here. Suddenly the usual sounds quieted when an angry sounding voice overpowered everything. He knew who it was and he feared his reaction. Would he kick Arnold out? Ban him from seeing his daughter? What would he do if he found out it was Arnold's fault his daughter was here?

He sat up when he saw Bob's usually stern face soften. The gruff man looked like he was going to crumble. Following Bob's eyesight, he looked down to realize he had a rather large bloodstain on his olive green button down shirt. _Helga's blood_. He may have been mistaken but he could have sworn he saw Bob Pataki's eyes water. He couldn't stop his own eyes from watering or his hand from trembling as his fingertips ghosted over the viscous substance.

He remembered the look in her eyes. It was one of terror. He'd only seen that look on her face a few times before. He saw it when they were in a cave on Elk Island when they were kids, he saw it when she was almost swept away both in the flood while they were trapped in school and when the water rose in the bio-square. He saw it when his pet parrot began reciting fragments of a poem. He saw it when they were on the rooftop of that old FTI building and her disguise fell off. He saw it again last year during a truth or dare game when Rhonda asked if she'd ever been in love. But the look has been burned in his mind since he was younger and he confronted her about her sudden act of altruism a few Christmases ago.

FLASHBACK

12-year-old-Arnold sat in the boarding house stirring his mug of hot chocolate. In an uncharacteristic moment of clarity, his grandmother realized it was Christmas and the boarders took the moment to celebrate the holiday by recalling their favorite moments of Christmas past.

"Hey Arnold, what was your favorite Christmas memory?"

The pre-teen smiled behind his mug and put it down on the coffee table. "Easy. It was when Mr. Huynh and his daughter found each other." The other boards murmured their agreement as Arnold's gaze drifted to father and daughter sitting next to each other across the room.

It made him believe that if Mr. Huynh was looking for his daughter, his parents were looking for him, that if she could be found and they could be reconciled after decades apart, his parents could come back to him, that they never forgot him and were fighting to get back.

"That was a nice thing your ugly little friend with the one eyebrow did."

Arnold shot up from his preciously slumped position on the couch after his grandfather's words. "Helga? What did Helga do?"

Phil shook his head at the memory. "The night Mai and Mr. Huynh found each other I caught her standing on the stoop without shoes on when I took out the trash. She scoffed and scampered off. I didn't think anything of it—the girl was always lurking around."

Arnold's eyes were as big as saucers listening to his grandfather. "She was," he asked more to himself than anyone else.

Phil looked at his grandson, half puzzled by his expression half hoping the young man would figure it out already. "Anyway, I ran into a guy from the records department a few days later. He was talking to his wife about how some crazy little blond girl gave up her shoes so her 'beloved' would believe in Christmas miracles. "

The blond boy felt dizzy. She was the reason he still had hope? His mind couldn't reconcile the image of the intimidating and scowling girl with the angel who helped him believe. He needed to see her. He needed the truth once and for all.

Standing up he headed towards the door without explanation grabbed his coat from the nearby coat rack and headed to the Pataki residence.

He didn't know what he was going to say, he still had no idea what to think of the situation. The only thing forefront in his mind was 'Helga lied about loving me.' He got to the front of the door and knocked frantically, the odd colored brownstone easy to recognize among its counterparts. His heart was pounding out of his chest as he waited for someone to answer.

Seconds later the door flew open and Arnold stood under Bob Pataki's intimidating stare. "What do you want kid?"

The green-eyed boy cleared his throat and addressed the older man calmly. "Hi Mr. Pataki. I was wondering if Helga was home?" He squeaked his answer, embarrassed to be going through the beginning stages of puberty.

"Hey Olga, your little friend Alfred is here," Bob bellowed in the direction of his daughter's room.

Helga was lying on her bed carelessly throwing her baseball in the air when she heard her father's voice ruining her tranquility. "It's Helga dad," she rolled her eyes, forgetting the second half of what he said. _Arnold_? She fell off her bed and fell face first on the floor, too nervous to be embarrassed. Giving herself a once-over in the mirror, she went downstairs to find Arnold at her doorstep.

Grabbing her coat she walked around her father and rolled her eyes. "Thanks _Bob_."

She closed the door behind her and watched Arnold pace in front of her stoop. He rubbed his neck nervously. "Spit it out bucko I don't have all day!"

"Were you lying?" He looked up at her hoping she would tell him the truth.

She seemed confused and slightly irritated as she tapped an impatient foot on the step. "What are you talking about?"

"He stopped and stood in front of her, hands on her shoulders and eyes matching hers glare for glare. _Thank you summer growth spurt_. "Were you lying when you said it was the heat of the moment? Do you love me?"

"Of course not." She had to look anywhere but those dazzling green eyes which threatened to pierce through her soul.

"Then why'd you help me save the neighborhood, why'd you help me find Mr. Huynh's daughter?"

Her eyes got big and he could see her lip tremble. He felt like he was torturing her, but he had to know. "Because."

"Because why?" He could feel his frustration bubbling to the surface as he struggled to stay patient.

"Because I'm allowed to do nice things Arnold."

"But I thought you hated me."

He was exposing her, layer by layer and she could feel herself melding into his touch. Her shoulder already scorched from his hands. But she wasn't ready. She didn't know if she would ever be ready. That fear of rejection trampled the truth. It won every time.

He got closer to her now, his voice desperate. "Please Helga. I need you to tell me the truth. Tell me how you feel."

She pushed away from him. "You're right. I do hate you. In fact, I'm pretty sure I hate your stinking guts. Leave me alone or I'll pound you, got it?" She shoved him and he lost his footing, falling on the hard concrete. Message received loud and clear. She did a lot of things but she never physically hurt him. He knew she was lying but wouldn't stick around for the truth. He was done—done trying, done giving her the benefit of the doubt. She ran over to him and offered her hand, shocked and angry that she caused him physical harm. "A-Arnold? I'm so sorry I didn't mean to—"

He swiped her hand away, electing to stand on his own. "Save it. I get it. You're just a mean and angry bully. You'll never change. Don't worry—I won't bother you any more. In fact I'm pretty sure I never want to talk to you again!"

He turned around and walked home, sure the sniffling he heard behind him was a figment of his imagination.

END OF FLASHBACK

He felt lost. She was always his compass, his anchor. When he was ready to doubt everything she gave him hope. He never knew why she did but he had a sneaking suspicion that every time things looked bleak and wrongs were suddenly righted, it was because of her.

The doctor looked around and found Arnold sitting by the reception area. "are you here for Helga Pataki?" The teen nodded and Bob Pataki came barreling over, his despondent wife in tow. "We're here for her. She's our daughter."

He gulped and took a calming breath before asking the question Arnold both hoped for and dreaded: "How is she?"

The doctor spoke pensively, sensing the tension and despair between the three. "Well she's okay. We were able to stop the bleeding but…" He looked around trying to gather his words and everyone waited for him to continue with bated breath. "Her body went into shock and there's some swelling on her brain from how hard she hit the ground after getting shot. We had to remve a small piece of her kidney that was damaged from the bullet." Miriam chocked back a sob and clung to her husband who looked a little worse for wear. "We're monitoring her closely, but she hasn't woken up yet and with the amount of trauma she went through, she's not out of the woods yet."

Miriam was full on sobbing at that point, but the doctor's words still hadn't registered. Was he saying she could…no, _no_! Arnold couldn't say anything for fear of speaking it into existence.

"She's in a coma now and we're just waiting for her to wake up. She already made it through two major surgeries. She's strong." He smiled slightly and then frowned looking at Mr. and Mrs. Pataki. "At any rate, I wouldn't advise against making arrangements just in case…"

Bob stepped closer to his daughter's doctor and began speaking his first words since the doctor's arrival. "Look you don't know her, but that girl in there is a fighter, so kindly take your advice and shove it up your—"

"B," she spoke softly into his ear caressing his arm. "This isn't going to make it better. Yelling and screaming isn't going to make her better."

He looked at her parents who were broken and grieving and asked, "Can I see her?"

The doctor, who introduced his self as Dr. Antoni, nodded his consent. Before he left, Arnold felt Bob Pataki's hand on his shoulder. "Arnold?"

"Yeah Mr. Pataki?"

"Be good to her."

Arnold nodded and went down the hallway wiping his suddenly clammy hands on his jeans. He walked to her room feeling like a fool. He was equal parts afraid and excited. She was amazing, she was always amazing. Why hadn't he seen it before? Why didn't he see beyond the taunts and pranks? Why didn't he just look into her eyes? They always told him everything he needed to know. They couldn't hide the truth. Moreover why didn't he believe them when they told him 'she loves you,' 'she needs you,' and 'you give her peace.' And what's worse, why didn't he believe his own when they responded with 'you need her more'?"


	4. Chapter 4

His heart was racing with every step. Standing in front of the door he checked and rechecked to assure this was the right room, that she was really here and this wasn't some cruel nightmare. He would give anything to wake up from this. Taking a deep breath he opened the door. His heart lurched with the realization that this indeed was really happening. "Hey Helga," the boy spoke into the silence. He hated this. The liveliest person he knew was surrounded by artificial sounds. The beeping of her heart monitor,the drops of water from the IV drip, they all became reminders that she was in here because of him. He barely had a scratch on him and she was fighting for her life. Swallowing down his emotions he walked closer to her, pulling the chair to her bed. Feeling the need for physical contact, he reached out and grabbed her hand.

"I'm so sorry Helga. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have pushed me away."

He thought of what she would say if she saw him. Of how she would probably tease him for being soft. Of how she would probably yank her hand from his. Over the years he found he welcomed these things about her. He couldn't believe how much he missed them now.

He looked down at her, never letting go of her hand. His thumb began stroking the knuckles, She never looked so peaceful. He didn't want to let her go. Smiling at the contented look on her face he wondered what she was thinking about and prayed she wasn't in pain.

* * *

Helga was in a meadow lying on the softest blanket. Running her hands slightly through it she opened up her favorite book and began reading, a gentle breeze blowing and her fingers danced across the freshly cut grass. This place was paradise. Colors were enhanced, senses sharpened, sounds melodious. She was in her own little world and wondered what she did to deserve this serenity.

She smiled when she felt the blanket ruffle and sighed when she felt the light pressure of a kiss on her neck. No words were exchanged between the two as they stared into each other's eyes. Her boy was always beautiful but right now he had her mesmerized. He was dressed in all white, the first two buttons of his crisp shirt unbuttoned revealing his taut chest. He moved closer and she closed her eyes taking in his scent. What was that scent? Never knowing what it was or how to explain it she always described it as _goodness_. It was sweet and musky and made her brain short circuit, especially at this proximity. His half lidded gaze left her pinned in her spot, not that she had any plans on moving anyway.

He hovered over her, his voice sounding like music. "Everything you ever wanted is right here. _I'm_ right here and I never plan on leaving your side." Taking her hand he placed a sweet kiss to her wrist before putting her hand over his chest, his heartbeat was rapid and erratic. "You feel that," he added. "It's yours. It's for you. It's all for you."

Keeping her hand on his she shucked her book away and ran her fingers on his chest. She wanted more contact, needed more, craved it even. Hastily she ripped the rest of his buttons off and ran her fingers over his chest, his arms, his stomach—she craved his touch. His eyes widened at her boldness, his smirk undeniable. He shirked the torn piece of clothing off to lie in the grass beside the long forgotten book. Pressing closer to her, he lowered his head to place a kiss to her ankles trailing his lips against her skin before kissing the sensitive area behind her knees. She shuddered as his hands found the hem of her dress. Biting her lip she lifted as he discarded the piece of clothing, her hands reaching for his pants. He swatted at them and kissed her pout away before removing them for her. One minute later and the duo was completely naked in front of each other. Helga knew she should have been nervous, but she was completely comfortable, knowing he would take care of her.

He looked over her, seemingly in awe. His stare made her nervous, made her want to find her clothes until he dipped down and whispered "you are so beautiful," into her ear. He then began biting and flicking his tongue on her earlobe.

That set her off. Grabbing his face she pulled him down and kissed him ferociously, desperately mewling into his mouth. His groan amplified matters and he pressed impossibly closer sending electricity everywhere their skin touched. The pressure was swirling, building low in her belly. She hooked her legs behind his back, grinding into his hardness and begging for release.

She was already breathing harder, panting, unraveling when his hands began to canvas her body. Each area he touched made her gasp slightly, causing ripples of pleasure to radiate through her. He grabbed massaged, kissed, licked, nipped, explored, and revered. Looking over at her for permission, he grabbed her hand interlacing his fingers with hers. She nodded slightly and he entered her slowly, easing his way in.

She was so tight, so wet. His dick twitched as she fluttered around him, the feeling almost made him lose concentration. She was milking him, taking everything he had to give. Still it wasn't enough. She desperately grabbed his ass needing him to go deeper and he obliged, twisting his hips and plunging into her further, each grunted thrust causing her to moan. All he wanted was for her to be his in a way no one else could. Hearing her moan and scream his name, keening in pleasure let him know he got his wish.

She was so close. Being here with him, doing this with him, loving him this way was already enough to send her over the edge. His hand feverishly twisting her clit only made it happen faster. She closed her eyes, seeing stars behind them. Her body was wracked with aftershocks. She felt like he destroyed her and rebuilt her 1000 times in each passing minute. A few thrusts later he came crashing down beside her with her name on his lips. She felt boneless, weightless. She opened her eyes to see their hands still intertwined although their grip was loosened. Wearing twin smiles they panted, both struggling to return to normal. She smiled when he brought her closer. She gently kissed his collarbone tasting the salty sheen of sweat that accumulated there, well everywhere really. She whispered the words she was finally unafraid to say to him. "I love you Arnold."

A sense of peace washed over her and she felt a huge weight lift from her. She closed her eyes at the birds chirping and melted when she felt him peppering kisses on her damp face, branding 'I love yous' into her skin.

This was bliss. Pure unadulterated bliss and she would do anything to stay in this moment.

* * *

Arnold didn't realize how long he prayed but when his eyes opened his sight was a little blurry. Arnold looked down at their clasped hands and furrowed his brow when he saw the drop of water roll from her thumb onto the blanket. It never registered that they were his tears. She was right there, right in front of his face, but she never seemed so far away.

"I need you to wake up. I need you to be okay. I need you Helga. I need you more than I've ever needed anyone before." He saw an errant strand of blond and tucked it behind her ear gently. "You mean more to me than I ever dreamed. You mean the world to everyone. Please fight. Please come back to me." He let go of her hand and gently kissed the top of her forehead. "Helga, I-I—" He gasped slightly when the machine showing her blood pressure spiked, cutting of his declaration. Nervous that he made matters worse, he pushed the emergency button, and her nurses rushed into the room.

He was so shocked and scared for Helga he hadn't noticed the looming, imposing figure aggressively yanking his collar, tossing him into the wall. His head hit the wall slightly and tears involuntarily rimmed his eyes. The man was enraged; his knuckles turning white, as his grip tightened. His fury helped lift Arnold off the ground. The teen grasped on to the man's shoulders for leverage.

He began shaking and Arnold thought he would die right there in the hospital. He spoke to the teen in a low dangerous tone: "You got some nerve going in there after what you did, kid."


	5. Chapter 5

The veins in his neck were bulging, throbbing and the look in the man's eyes was murderous. Arnold struggled to breathe struggled against the man who he could tell wanted him dead. "Mr. Pataki," Arnold managed to eke out, albeit hoarsely.

"If you knew what was good for you, you would shut up."

Miriam wrapped a slender hand around Bob's bicep. "Let him down B, he's just a little boy."

"Let me tell you what he did Miriam. He's the reason she's in here. He was supposed to be shot and she saved him. This c_oward_ let our little girl jump in front of a bullet meant for him." His voiced cracked thinking about his daughter.

Saying those words made Bob's fury stronger as he lifted the wriggling boy higher.

"You should be in there fighting for your life, not Helga."

Miriam pleaded with him but her words were falling on deaf ears. Meanwhile Arnold was struggling to breathe, his face shaded a deep crimson.

"This little fucking orphan has been ruining our daughter's life for years and now he—"

Bob didn't know what happened but he fell to his knees gasping for air. The wind was knocked out of him as two frail figures stood in front of him.

"Pataki, I heard about Helga and I'm really sorry but that gives you no right to lay your hands on my kid." Turning around, Phil Shortman helped his grandson up, asking a nurse to have him checked.

Bob grumbled and cursed but he couldn't move. The older woman had a boot to his throat and every time he squirmed she applied pressure to it. When Arnold was found to be okay, Gertie released him. The bad-tempered man was more embarrassed than anything. Pointing at Arnold he warned the shaken teen in a low, threatening tone. "Stay away from her. If you set foot anywhere near her again, I'll kill you."

Miriam gasped at her husband's statement. Sure he was grieving, they both were but it didn't give Bob the right to threaten a teenager, especially one Helga cherished. Phil with ice in his eyes and venom in his voice fired back, swatting Bob's finger away from his grandson. "And if you touch Arnold again, I'll kill you." Arnold walked towards his grandfather and placed a calming hand on his shoulder. This was getting out of control and none of it was helping Helga, this fighting wouldn't make her better. "He's right grandpa, what happened to Helga was my fault."

Dejectedly, Arnold walked towards the elevators, his eyes never leaving Helga's room. Seeing the pain in his eyes a nearby nurse slipped her card in Arnold's palm with a message to call if he wanted to visit Helga and she would let him know when Bob wasn't around. Arnold smiled his thanks and clutched the card in his hand.

* * *

One month later saw Helga making little progress and Arnold continuing his daily routine of visiting Helga 30 minutes before visiting hours were over. If he had it his way he would never leave the room, but with Big Bob lurking around he knew getting caught wasn't an option. Luckily the kind nurse who called him about the best time to visit always told him about Helga's progress.

Arnold's life became consumed by four activities. All he did was eat, sleep, go to school, and visit Helga. Everyone was worried about the teen, but he continued his ritual knowing one day Helga would open her eyes. His grand parents suggested he take a vacation to clear his head and rejuvenate himself. He balked at the idea; insulted they would suggest anything that would take him away from Helga. Gerald invited him to parties, basketball games, anything to get him away from the hospital but it only made the green-eyed teen more despondent. Even Lila who was now a passing acquaintance asked that he go to church with her, which he would have done if Sunday wasn't the only day the Patakis didn't visit the hospital. He needed all the time he could get with his catatonic friend. Although he felt guilty he hoped God could forgive him.

"Hey Helga, how are you doing today?" He smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead before sitting beside her.

"You look good. You're getting some color back in your cheeks." Placing his hand over hers he held it momentarily, his hands grazing the bullet wound on her side. "You're even healing quickly."

In the back of his mind he hoped this was some elaborate prank and she would just wake up and tease him for being so gullible. As time went on he knew the likelihood of it happening was slim to none. Despite visiting her every day, it was hard to see her like this.

"I have some bad news…I talked to your nurses. They told me you're a 5 on some coma scale. They said it means you have a 53% chance of dying." He grabbed her hand, squeezing it more for his own comfort than hers. Everything he read told him the longer she stayed in a coma, the smaller her chances for survival were. She was already past a month. Most people didn't wake up. If they did, they had life-changing injuries (loss of memory, speech, personality shifts and a decrease in mobility were some of the effects of being in a long-term coma). He knew her chances at this point were entering miracle territory, but something deep inside told him not go give up hope, so he didn't, and he told her he wouldn't every day he visited. "But that only means you have a 47% chance of surviving. They don't know you like I do. They don't know how strong you are." Reaching in his backpack he pulled out a small rectangular object, waving it in the air. "Alright are you ready?"

* * *

Helga was lying on the pier, feet skimming the water while holding hands with her beloved. She didn't know how long she'd been in this Shangri-la but she knew it had been the best time of her life. Everything was perfect here—perfect scenery, perfect weather, and perfect company. Looking over at him, his eyes closed and his smile contented she asked, "what are you thinking about?"

He opened up his eyes to peer into hers "You. How happy I am here with you. How I don't want you to leave my side." Picking up her hand he traced his lips over her knuckles, kissing each one. "Promise you'll stay with me," he whispered, voice full of fear and desperation.

She sat up slightly, alarmed by his tone. How could he think she'd ever want to leave him?

"Arnold, you're my dream. You're everything I ever wanted. I could _never_ leave you."

He beamed then looking completely relieved. "Good, because I'm worried they'll take you away from me." His eyes began to well and her heart broke for him.

She wondered who he meant, wondered how anyone could tear her away from this. With eyes full of determination and love bursting at the seams she wiped his tear away, kissing the apple of his cheek. "Wild horses couldn't drag me away." He nuzzled into the crook of her neck at her words. This was his safe place and there was no way he was letting her go. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her side which made her wince. She never remembered experiencing pain. Everything was good here, pain never existed before this moment. And the feeling amplified now that there was a word to tie to the sensation. One minute she was smiling and the next she was doubled over holding her side with trembling hands.

Growing concerned Arnold leaped up and grabbed the spot of her discomfort, twining their hands together to apply pressure to it. The moment his hand touched hers the pain dissipated and she appeared to be fine.

She leaned back then, listening to the water underneath her and molding her body back to his. She tried to forget but she couldn't. She was naturally curious and still shaken up over the phantom pain. She tried to snuggle back into Arnold and forget it all but the memory of what just happened kept looming in her mind.

* * *

Closing his eyes Arnold let the pages from the rectangular book shuffle before picking a random poem. It became their daily ritual and he always thought it made Helga happy. It started when he found a book of poems that spilled out of her backpack during the shooting. The Pablo Neruda poem book seemed so out of character for Helga that at first he didn't think it was hers. When he saw the skull and crossbones sticker next to a doodle of a bouquet of wildflowers in the inner flap, he knew this book was unmistakably hers. Curiosity getting the better of him he picked it up when he grabbed her belongings for the ambulance ride and took it home. Every day he would pick a random poem and read it to her. "Today's poem is called: _Don't go far Off."_ Clearing his throat he began.

"Don't go far off, not even for a day, because -  
because - I don't know how to say it:  
a day is long and I will be waiting for you,"

He closed the book and shook his head. This poem was making his heart race and eyes slightly water, but he continued. He had to.  
"as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else,  
asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because  
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,  
the smoke that roams looking for a home  
will drift into me, choking my lost heart."

His body felt heavy and he began stuttering when he read. These words hit too close to home. These words were his own, bleeding on the page before him only to be heard by Helga's ears. He both dreading and anticipated the next lines.

"Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;  
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.  
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest, "

He began reading, softer now as he internalized the words to his situation. Helga was life and love and light and he was dying little by little without her. Looking at her now, knowing her odds made every word he read divinely inspired, every letter assembled on the page became essential. It was more than a poem—it was a history lesson, it was a message, a declaration. They were the words nestled deep in his heart that he was conveying to the one who owned it.

_"because in that moment you'll have gone so far  
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,  
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?"*_

Putting the book down he closed his eyes for a second and drew a deep breath, emotionally exhausted. He slumped closer to her now needing close contact. He was dizzy, heady and angry with himself. He'd been so blind before, so stupid. How could he not have known what she meant to him? He only hoped he could tell her soon.

* * *

***The poem is Paolo Neruda's **_**Don't Go Far Off. **_


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you all so much for reading, and a special thank you for those that reviewed. Your kind words kept me motivated to continue. This was my first story and I'm a little sad it's almost over (one chapter after this one left). I hope you've enjoyed it.

* * *

Arnold saw Phoebe going to her locker before class started. Catching up to her he tapped her shoulder and she turned around a little startled. "Arnold!"

She took a minute to look over her old friend. He looked miserable. His eyes were bloodshot and his sunken in. Dark circles and bags were underneath them making it obvious he needed to sleep. Her concern for Helga grew tenfold when looking at Arnold. She could tell when things were getting worse because he looked worse. It was even affecting his grades. She watched him fidget with his books before putting her hand on his shoulder. "When's the last time you slept Arnold? I must say, I'm very worried about you. Making yourself sick isn't going to make Helga any better."

She saw his gaze shift as the jittery boy kept pushing his hair out of his eyes. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. How was your last visit with her?" Because of the ban Mr. Pataki placed on Arnold, the only way he was able to find out about her progress was through Phoebe or her nurse. Lately the nurse had been skittish to reveal information, which made the blonde haired teen nervous. His only source was Phoebe who was able to see Helga whenever she pleased. Arnold was happy knowing Helga had Phoebe when he couldn't be there.

She sighed. She knew she wasn't getting through to him. There was no way Arnold was going to think about himself while Helga was in the hospital. "Well her doctor said she's doing the same. She had some involuntary muscle movements but no big change to report."

He drew a deep breath, trying to hide his disappointment. "I'm telling you she smiled at me last night. I read her a poem and she smiled. She's going to be okay Phoebe, I just know it."

She smiled at him, his words producing more sorrow than optimism. "I hope you're right Arnold."

Watching him walk away she opened her locker when she heard Gerald calling her.

"I'm really worried about him Gerald."

He offered her a sad smile, unsure of how to comfort her. They were barely friends now, both focused on other people. But he still cared for her, he was pretty sure he always would. "Yeah me too. This is the anniversary of when he found out about his parents. It's going to be a rough day."

She shook her head looking at the shell of Arnold meander down the hallways looking lost. "For the first time I don't think it's because of them. In fact he hasn't mentioned his parents at all."

Arnold had no idea why he was in school. It didn't matter, nothing did. He knew he should be feeling _something _about today but he couldn't bring himself to care. Staring at the date on his calendar proved what the day signified. He felt horrible he could forget. It was the day his search for his parents ended. It was the day he realized why they never came back to find him. It was the day the girl he thought hated him showed him immeasurable kindness and compassion. Helga was usually there with him, just like she was when he found out. She was the only reason he ever found out.

FLASHBACK—

It was a cold rainy April afternoon and 14-year-old Arnold was inside playing dominoes with the boarders. He liked quiet times like this where no one was yelling, and his grandmother was lucid. He was just about to grab some snacks from the kitchen when he heard a knock on the back door. Rising to get it he opened the door seeing a soaked and shivering Helga Pataki clutching something shiny he couldn't quite make out close to her chest. Her eyes were big glassy and bloodshot, he saw the unmistakable tracks of tears on his cheek and instantly knew whatever she was going to say was bad, really bad. "Helga, what's wrong?"

She bit her bottom lip which was trembling from her stopping the tears. How could she find the strength to do this? Shaking her head slightly she asked to speak to him in private.

He nodded as worry crept in and wordlessly led her to hisroom. She wanted him to find his parents, to finally get the happy ending he deserved. Unfortunately, she had to be the bearer of bad news, hurting the only thing in her world worth protecting. Stepping away from him she held the metal object up so he could see what it was. Hands shaking she kept her grip tight on the urn. "Arnold, I'm so sorry." She placed it in his hands and he read the description.

"No. This can't be real. How-how can you think this is real?" He placed the urn with his mother's remains on his bookshelf, his hands felt like they were on fire holding it. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her final resting place.

She looked down fiddling with her wet hoodie. "I've been trying to find them for years. I know how much they mean to you. I just wanted you to be happy." She whispered the last part, hoping he wouldn't be able to pick up what she wasn't saying. She didn't mention that she called in some favors and blackmailed some of her father's questionable contacts for information. Nor did she discuss saving up funds every day since their failed jungle trip because she couldn't bear to see his disappointed face again. She certainly wasn't going to tell him about the countless hours and elaborate letters sent to US delegates and senators pleading for assistance in finding the Shortmans.

He was equal parts devastated and honored, his mind reeling from this recent development. This girl that he hardly spoke to had been looking for his parents? For years? Why? His mom was dead? He would never get to spend time with her? And what about his father? He didn't know how to feel.

"How did you find her?"

She kept details minimal. She couldn't tell him how her body was burnt beyond recognition, taking the police several years to identify her remains or how their captors raped her before stripping her naked and dousing her with gasoline, lighting her on fire. She could barely stand knowing that, but sharing that with Arnold was inconceivable. She wanted to spare him from further heartache.

"Is this true," he asked more out of desperation than anger. He needed it to be a lie.

Helga rolled her eyes and tried to scowl. She wanted to distract him, wanted him to hate her. Anything would be better than him hating his self. Looking into his defeated eyes, she could tell she already lost that battle. She elected to comfort him instead. She wouldn't say anything, she would just be near him in case he wanted to say something.

"I wish I could take this away for you. I wish I could bring them back." Reaching into her hoddie pocket she pulled out a tattered paper and handed it to Arnold. "They found this near her body.

He looked at the note, which was a little weathered and charred, numbly opening it. Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes and read the loopy, obviously rushed script.

_My precious little boy,_

_If you're reading this, it means I failed. All I ever wanted to do was to get back to you, but it seems that won't be happening. They've already captured your father. He was beheaded at dawn. I had to watch the love of my life die but luckily I escaped. I want you to know I drew my last breath working on getting back to you. You need to know your father loved you more than anything in this world. Nothing hurts me more than knowing I won't get to see the amazing person you will become. Never forget to do good, to bring about positive change in this world. Always remember that your father and I love you to the moon and back. If distance couldn't take that away, death never will._

_All my love,_

_Mom_

His eyes watered and he fell to the floor, his body too heavy to support the weight of his heartbreak. He held a hand to his chest trying to keep his heart encased in his body. He was broken. This was confirmation of all of his fears. His parents were gone, forever and he would remain an orphan. He often romanticized their return, and now he knew without a shadow of a doubt, they were gone.

She held back a whimper as she listened to him let out a soul-crushing scream before sobs racked his body. His heart was breaking, she could feel it because hers was starting to separate as well. Sitting next to him she held the trembling boy, his head falling on her lap and her hands running through his hair soothingly. They woke up hours later emotionally exhausted, but in each other's arms.

That started their tradition of spending the day together. Last year they rented out a boat and spent the day lazing around on the lake. Two years ago they spent the day in Helga's room under a blanket fort they created and watched movies. They could say the meanest, most hateful things to each other 364 days out of the year, but that day, that hallowed day, they always spent with each other, holding themselves together.

END OF FLASHBACK

* * *

"Hey Helga." He smiled softly at her, pulling his chair over to greet her. "How are you today?" He wanted to spend all day with her. It was their tradition, but he didn't want to cause any trouble with her father. He had to settle with 30 minutes, 8:30-9:00PM, just before visiting hours were over. Instead of reading a poem, he talked to her. Talked to her about his dreams, about their future. He told her he wished she would read him one of her poems. He wished for her happiness, and he wished she knew she would always be loved. He also wished more than anything that she would wake up and come back to him.

* * *

Helga looked around jittery, aware of things she never noticed before. Green meadows turned black and barren. Plump birds fell from decaying trees, emaciated. Those once enchanting colors dulled, those once melodious sounds dissipated. The birds chirping seemed sweet at first but was slowly becoming annoying and dissonant. All of a sudden the breeze wasn't so gentle, all of a sudden she felt cold.

She could deal with it, she rationalized, as long as he was there. And he was. He never left her side.

For the first time since she got there it started to rain. Helga flinched as the slight drizzle turned into a downpour. This Arnold didn't come prepared with an umbrella. This Arnold looked downright petrified of what the rain could reveal.

Arnold held her closer now but instead of feeling secure, she felt terrified. His vice-like grip was telling her something was off. She pulled her arm back and noticed something else—this wasn't Arnold at all. The rain caused his mask to crumble, his disguise to melt slightly. If one weren't paying attention one would assume this stranger was Arnold Shortman but looking closer, anyone could see the differences. His eyes were duller, his words harsher. And when the rain began washing away the makeup that made faux Arnold look like his counterpart, Helga had an awful feeling that this imposter didn't have her best interests at heart. In fact she realized he was designed to keep her away from heart's desire.

She stepped away from him slowly, cautiously and turned toward the bright light that was beckoning her to safety. She was almost there—she could feel its radiance coating her, protecting her somehow. The warmth it gave off calmed her and she went towards it first slowly and then her pace quickened the closer she got to it. She was reaching for it, almost there when she felt something grip her ankle and tug her away from the light. Falling she turned to find faux Arnold grabbing her ankle and dragging her back. "I'm sorry love, I can't let you leave." She kicked and screamed, tried to wriggle from his grip but he was too strong and she couldn't fight him. He ended up yanking her back as bits of earth in her nails showed evidence of her struggle.

Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped. "Arnold?" She looked at him before falling back into unconsciousness. "Helga," he called out holding her closely. "Helga!" he screamed frantically, hoping she'd open her eyes again. Arnold didn't know what to do. In that one moment when she looked right at him, all was right in his world. "Please come back to me." It was beyond cruel that she was gone, slipped right through his fingers again. The nurse told him it was an involuntary movement, and she had to report this visit to Helga's parents since the doctor had to be called in. She warned the startled boy that Helga's parents were on their way and it was best to leave. Kissing Helga's cheek he ran off, promising to see her again tomorrow.

* * *

Last night was the most restful night's sleep he had in a long time. He knew that was no involuntary movement. He knew she heard him and she was on her way back. Checking his phone for messages he went downstairs to make the boarders breakfast. This was going to be a good day. He could feel it in his bones.

Hearing a knock on his door washed that good feeling away.

"Phoebe?" She stood at the door, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot, looking like Helga did a few years ago when she delivered the news about his parents. He knew it was bad. Phoebe never cried and she should have been at the hospital with Helga. If she wasn't there something horrible must have made him seek her out.

"What happened," he asked dreading the answer.

"It's Helga. She's getting worse and Mr. Pataki is thinking about pulling the plug."


	7. Chapter 7

_**Well this is the end. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Thanks for everything!**_

* * *

They say you don't know what you have until it's gone. He didn't know about that, and he hoped he would never found out. His mind couldn't conceive, he heart couldn't reconcile a Helga-less existence. The world couldn't spin without her here—how could it when he was sure his world would stop? She burrowed into his psyche when they were three and there was no way she was ever getting out. The little spitfire came in and inundated every aspect of his life. She made it better. She made him better. He finally understood why he cared so much—it wasn't guilt or concern for his friend. It was more than that, deeper than that. He loves her. Not just the person that she let everyone see but the quiet her. The her that put others first, the sensitive her that was afraid of getting hurt; the strong and courageous her that stepped in front of a gun to save his life. He rushed out the door making his way to the hospital with Phoebe in tow and prayed that he wasn't too late.

* * *

Bob Pataki looked on with a heavy heart as he watched his oldest daughter leave her sister's room. She was full on blubbering, so distraught she couldn't form sentences. His heart broke a little as he watched her run into her mother's comforting arms, Miriam gently rocking the inconsolable girl. He and Miriam locked eyes for a moment as she gestured towards Helga's room.

He was the last one, he knew. He had to do this, but he couldn't. He just didn't know how to say goodbye to his baby girl. He knew the only thing keeping her alive was the machines, he knew there was no brain activity, but every day he hoped one day he'd go to her room and she would be yelling at the nurses or trying to run away.

He knew how to do one thing well—hide his feelings. He was a master at painting a picture, of performing, hoping no one lifted the curtains and would really see the disappointingly weak creature he really was: the damaged, failure of a man who was a horrible husband and father. Helga could always see through his charade, and it scared him. When he called her Olga to remind her of who she should be, she responded by calling him Bob, reminding him that he didn't deserve to be called her father. It hurt him more than he could ever say and she was right every time.

He stood by the doorway at first, too scared to be close to her. She looked so fragile in that bed, so broken. It was his job to protect her and he failed, just like he failed at everything. "I…I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I know I wasn't the best father, but I want you to know it was a privilege being yours. I wish I could have been better."

He gave her a weak smile, swallowing the emotion that constricted his throat. He moved closer to her now. "I love you so much little lady." Looking at her now was becoming unbearable. Holding her in his arms for a minute he let her go rushing out of the room. He wished he knew what was keeping her from opening her eyes, because he would fight whatever it was if it meant she would come back.

* * *

Helga was living in a nightmare. She tried to scream but no sound came out, tried to run but forgot how to. Her legs didn't work, she just felt herself getting dragged away from the light. She watched it helplessly until it dimmed and pain was back. She touched her side gently and felt the sticky substance on her dress, which was now darkened by the her hands, her eyes widened when she saw what was pooling on her fingers-blood.

The scenery changed and she was right back at her school in an empty hallway. Looking down she found she was wearing her black skinny jeans, white shirt and tan leather jacket, her pink Chucks providing the only splash of color on her otherwise neutral toned outfit. Her hands were clutching the straps of her book bag when something compelled her forward. Her eyes widened when she got closer.

This made no sense, this couldn't be—her heart was pounding the closer she got to him. She could feel his heart speed up as well.

There stood Sid, their former friend, who was sent into a home for his extreme paranoia and OCD holding a gun to Arnold's temple. She crept closer, hoping he wouldn't notice, hoping she could get there in time.

"You got some nerve thinking you're the hero Arnold," he said trembling as he held the cold gun in his hand. "You helped everyone—Phoebe, Gerald, those crazies you live with, but you couldn't help me. Hell, you even help Helga and everyone knows you hate her."

Arnold held up his hands, hoping he could get through to the disturbed boy. "Sid, listen to me. Whatever happened, I promise this won't make it better." Arnold tried to keep the worry from his tone but his words still came out shaky.

"No! I don't want your fucking help now. It's too late! I asked you for advice and you left me there. I told you I couldn't keep living like this. I told you about my mother." Pressing the gun deeper into Arnold's skull he continued. "Do you know what she did to me every night? What she made me do?" He was in tears as this point. "I didn't want to. I knew it was so wrong but I couldn't stop it. No matter how wrong it was, no matter how much I cringed when she touched me, it still happened."

Arnold gulped immediately feeling sad for Sid. He could see he didn't want to do this. Sid shook his head, but kept the gun steady. "I just want the pain to go away."

Helga was close enough to knock the gun away from Sid. She realized the moment Arnold saw her. She saw his eyes widen, silently begging her to turn around, but she ignored that. They were getting out of this together. Helga punched Sid in the neck, startling the boy for a second. "I should have known you would show up."

Arnold tried to keep his hands up, tried to wordlessly beg Helga to leave him here. "She won't say anything Sid, please just let her leave."

"I can't. You know I can't Arnold. You know your bitch would do anything for you." He was practically growling now. "All I ever wanted was someone to watch over me, someone to protect me the way you're protecting her." Sid moved the gun on Helga now as Arnold shifted to put his body in front of hers. "She's going to die just like my mother did."

He didn't know how it happened. He was powerless to stop it. Sid moved the gun back to Arnold's head and Helga jumped from behind him, tousling with the broken boy until he squeezed the trigger, shooting her in her left side, a few inches below her ribs. The bullet went straight through her piercing one of her kidneys. Watching Helga writhe on the ground in agony, a moment of clarity passed through the confused boy. He realized what he had done, mumbled his apologies, dropped the gun and ran, leaving a distraught Arnold holding Helga in the hallway.

END OF FLASHBACK

She was back on the decaying floor of her once magical place now concentrating on a voice in the distance. Focusing all her attention she listened to it intently. "Hold on Arnold," she murmured, a little weakened but still determined. "I'm coming back to you."

* * *

Arnold rushed past Miriam and Olga, thankful they didn't see him. Now he only hoped Phoebe could distract Mr, Pataki long enough for him to slip into Helga's room unnoticed.

He stood closer to her, heart racing from the anxiety of possibly getting caught. He hated that she was here, pinned in this place hooked up to machines. She deserved so much better. He wished he could take her away from this place. Sitting in her bed he took her hand, grazing his thumb across her knuckles. He was finally ready to tell her what he should have told her a long time ago.

"I'm the wandering man Helga."

He smiled imagining how confused her face would be if she were awake. How she would put her hands on her hips and tell him to just spit it out already.

"Remember that story we were supposed to start in English? Well, I finally did. I can't even remember the title, something about a wandering man, but I remember the story.

It was about this man. The love of his life died in his arms and he carried her around telling anyone who tried to take her away that they would be killing him as well. His entire existence was gone, and if she wasn't close he had no reason to live. He wandered around for hours, never letting her go. The townspeople were offended. They said the man snapped; that he was desecrating her corpse. Anyway, they cornered him into this alley, keeping him there until the authorities arrived. The sheriff then ripped the dead woman from his arms. True to his word the man's heart stopped beating as soon as they took her away."

He chuckled carding a nervous head through his unruly blond hair.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is…"

He stopped when he heard Bob Pataki speaking softly outside her door. He must have been talking to Helga's doctor. _Shit_. He knew what he was planning to do. Realizing he had to stop the man somehow Arnold ran over to the door, locking it. Looking around he found the small nightstand, threw everything off, tilted it and wedged it under the doorknob, trying to ensure they couldn't come in and kill Helga before she had the chance to wake up.

He went back over towards her and sat down. "I don't work without you." He sniffled and drew a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. "I'm not good with this. I'm not good with saying how I feel…" He kept hearing Mr. Pataki pound at the door, furiously rattling the handle while shouting obscenities, but he didn't care. This had to be said. "There's no combination of words that I can say to express how much you mean to me." Leaning forward he pressed a hard kiss to her chapped lips. "I love you Helga Pataki. Always have, always will."

He placed his forehead on hears for a minute, trying to memorize every crevice of her face, every detail, every feature. He tried to soak in her scent, feel her skin against his, remember how his heart raced when she was close. He wanted it all etched in his mind just as it was etched in his heart. He was lost in his own world, never hearing the door open or the furniture scuff the floor as it moved away from the door. He didn't hear the security officers shuffle over but he felt them pulling him away from her.

He was holding onto her hand, tighter now as the security guard tried to pry their hands apart, finger by finger. Arnold let go suddenly shocked when he felt her hand squeeze his back. "Don't do this. She's going to wake up. She just squeezed my hand. I felt it."

"Arnold, it was just an involuntary movement," Phoebe chirped from behind him. Without looking he could tell she was crying. In fact there wasn't a dry eye in the room.

"No!" He shook trying to break free from the guard's hold as he watched her doctor walk in, the hospital chaplain following him. "Please don't do this. She's going to wake up. I can _feel _it." Arnold was practically convulsing trying to get back to her.

When he heard the chaplain begin his prayer, his body went limp.

He felt his heartbeat slow and he let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding when he watched her eyelids flutter open. The chaplain stopped and stared at the doctor, the Patakis and finally Arnold. The whole room was silent. "How's that for a miracle," the chaplain shouted after saying a quick prayer and exiting the room.

Her eyes surveyed the scene as she tried to process whether this was real or another lucid dream. Her doctor stood, gobsmacked, as he heard the girl call out to someone. Her voice was so weak from misuse that he could barely make out what she was saying but Arnold heard her as he pushed away from the guards, finally free from their hold.

She looked up at the boy with glossy sea green eyes and tentatively touched his cheek which in turn made him hold her hand to his face and close his eyes. He relished in her touch, happy to see her expressive eyes look into his. "Arnold? Is it really you?"  
He was frozen. He pictured this moment a million times, dreamed of it even. Now that it was here, he didn't know what to do. Blinking a few times he leaned in closer, his face hovering over hers. "It's me. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

Helga smiled at him and kept looking in his eyes. This was her Arnold, she could see it in his eyes. She always found comfort in them. "Good. Because I _love _you."

He wore an ear splitting grin at her admission, never hearing words that sounded so sweet. "I love you too."


End file.
